Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Leah Nov 2015
gimme that elmwood walk where we don't acknowledge each other;
my lips feel on fire and I
count the steps
for every sidewalk square;
1,2
3,4.
9/26/15
Coop Lee Dec 2014
you approach the house in zebra-print pants, wet matches and ice’d driveway,
you stumble to ignite.
spark to flame to enchant the neighborhood with midnight light.
you of the timeless once-was,
of grass or great oak,
you held the family together.
you tried to scotch-tape a butterfly’s pulled-wings back on.

                 [the momentum of love.]

teen boys breakdown in vacant lots
thinking of what you were to them. they
drag girls up and down the hillside, thru holes of the old factory fence,
attempting the ritual of you.
the aluminum hum if wind and night,
of highway lights on the distance.
*** on a tomb of plastic curlings.

you appear in pixels and dark bars,
face painted clown-like.
hydros in your palm, knife in your hip.
you were that girl lost between city sprawl
& old woodwork,
old wooden chairs carved upon and passed back and forth from *** to ***
class to class.

bell.
pizza delivery boy.
grease-ring soaked box and to touch his knees.
the channel changes, and he holds his breath for years,
in the wake of you.
PrttyBrd Apr 2015
Buffalo abound
Providing all with one hunt
Sustaining the tribe
42515
10w
Sinai Apr 2015
But my love
You deserve to be so much more than
Another one of my mistakes
That is not what you were made of

You, my dear
You are the final destination
Utopia
After I broke myself
On unhealthy relationships
And one-nightstands
And all that is left of me
Is my purest self
I will arrive
Ready to be loved by you
Ready to love you too
Every evening I sit on the banks of the Old Man
Withdrawing the gurgles and churns
And applying it as salve to my soul.

I meditate on the modernistic monolith
Perched on the banks of the coulees.
A castle made of sand, so to speak;
A house of learning; fiat lux~medicine rock.
The name isn't important, its role is.
The binder in the masonry is metaphor that I use to
Bind me to my duty on this plane of existence.

I am a miniscule piece of an eternal pie.
Still, my actions are important.
Every choice I make sends a signal back to the pie
Reminding It of its essence.
It is not apple or cherry or pizza, even
The eternal pie that we are all a piece of is Love


Those castles I spoke of earlier
Are continuously flowing
Back into the love
From whence they came.

Why the duality?
Why not just stay in the spirit world and commune with Love?

2 reasons
1. Our souls need to grow: for growth we take to the physical, mental, and spiritual plane

2. Love is imperfect: the definition needs further unraveling

1 word
< ~ ~ Evolution ~ ~ >
Austin Heath Jun 2014
He had a confident anxiety,
and a stage name.
Who the hell has a stage name anymore?
He ****** down cigarettes like he was
trying to eat their insides. Violently.
Swore he was a fighter.
Feint at the sight of blood.
I knew the last king of jazz, yeah,
he drank whiskey and sang out of key.
Stole his act from Tom Waits,
like any respectable artist does,
you'll come to find.
He was a big man, literally, intimidating in size
if he wasn't so **** funny. Not goofy, just funny.
Southern man, migrated north.
The south of the north; Buffalo.
Most depressing city in the world,
but you learn something from a guy like that
in a city by Buffalo.
How to survive, maybe,
or how to keep it together long enough.
Long enough for what?
William Crowe II May 2014
The headdress danced in the sun
On the Indian's hollow
And eyeless skull.

It was framed in feathers
Brightly-colored serpents in the
Salty air flames licking at
Dancing and ***** bare feet.

Dark-skinned, tall, high cheekbones
And solemn eyes full of
Wisdom--he surveys the
Badlands, Moses's rigid face
Blank and silent in a
Heatwave desert.

Beyond the teepees and the
Black bonfire smoke and
The buffalo rhythm, the plateau has
Risen, bleached bones
Litter the plains as a constant
Reminder.

— The End —